Fear Of Fire Leaves You Cold, Chapter 7.2
Title: Fear of Fire Leaves You Cold, Chapter 7
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17
Characters: House, Cuddy, Rachel Cuddy, Wilson, Arlene, Julia, etc.
Author's Note: Since this piece is set post "Moving On," there are spoilers for that episode. Also please note that, while I plan on making this House/Cuddy, it's not going to be a quick thing. Given what House has done, it will take a while to work through all of those issues. If you're looking for an easy happy ending, this isn't the piece for you. Some chapters are split for length. These next few chapters were written for harvesttime88 for the help_lisa auction.
Warning: This fic contains sex.
Summary: After House crashes his car through Cuddy's home, both strive to rebuild their lives and deal with the consequences of their broken relationship.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part 1), Chapter 2 (Part 2), Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (Part 1), Chapter 4 (Part 2), Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 (Part 1)
Disclaimer: The show is not mine.
She dreaded this moment, had since the second he’d ruined her home. Of course, right after House had done that, she hadn’t imagined that his release would be welcomed by her, the product of her actions. But when he hadn’t killed anyone, she had known that this day would come eventually.
And here she was now - living that moment she’d never wanted to happen.
Any enjoyment she’d gotten from being asked out on a date was gone. The self-assurance she’d had that this was the right course of action disappeared. Whatever she’d told herself to get herself to this point suddenly seemed inadequate when faced with the reality of picking House up from jail.
At that moment, she berated herself for insisting on it. She could have had him released and let him figure out a way to get home on his own. That would have been easier, probably smarter as well. But she’d told Malcolm, and everyone else, that she would be picking him up. No doubt they believed she was doing this to prove that she really thought House wasn’t responsible for his actions. In truth however, she’d wanted to take the drive back to his apartment to explain in detail how his life was going to be from here on out. She wouldn’t allow him to think he’d achieved any sort of freedom when he walked out of his jail.
Being here though… it was a lot harder than she imagined it would be.
Part of her wanted to turn and run, but she knew she couldn’t. Thanks to her own behavior, she would have to come face to face with House eventually. She couldn’t avoid this meeting forever.
But when he suddenly came through a heavily locked and guarded door and into the same room that she was in, she wanted to run.
It wasn’t fear that she felt, not exactly. That would have been understandable, she thought, but she doubted he was dumb enough to do something to her in a room filled with armed policemen. It wasn’t that she was afraid of being hurt.
It was just… a deep longing to be free of him and the unbidden knowledge that she probably never would be. Because even as part of her hated him, there was another part that couldn’t help but notice how gaunt he’d become. In the last month and a half or so, he’d lost weight, muscle mass. He didn’t look as though he’d been mistreated, but he was thinner and paler. His eyes were wild with disbelief and concern, and if there were fear in the room with them now, it was his.
His things bagged in a clear plastic bag, he held them tucked under the crook of one arm. His other hand grasped his cane and shook with each tentative step towards her. When he stopped in front of her, he said nothing. He just stood there in complete bewilderment.
“Do you have everything?” she asked unkindly. He nodded his head. “Let’s go. I want to be able to go to work, and there’s traffic.”
He didn’t say anything, which made her feel even more uneasy. Being with him at all made her uncomfortable. Seeing that he had… changed (she hesitated to say that) didn’t help her feel any better. It should have. His newfound docility should have pleased her. Instead, she felt as though the rules had changed, things between them had shifted. She didn’t know what had happened to make him think this was the best way to handle her, and she didn’t care what the reason was. But the difference confused her anyway. She hoped it didn’t show.
Turning away from him, she started to walk towards the door. She assumed he would follow her, and he did, slowly. Nevertheless, that fact sent a ripple of disappointment through her. Although she knew this had to happen, it wasn’t easy to go through with it. She didn’t think it would ever be.
That became particularly apparent when they stepped outside into the bright sun. Instantly House stopped moving. He couldn’t keep walking, because he was too busy wincing in pain. When Cuddy turned around to see what the problem was, she understood automatically.
He probably hadn’t been outside since he’d been arrested, and his eyes had trouble adjusting to the sudden rush of light and the overwhelming heat of summer. He cringed, trying to shield himself from the sun instinctively. And seeing him suffering, she felt her own instincts respond. She found herself wanting to help him, feeling bad for him.
It wasn’t even a thought in her mind. There was no moment where she heard herself thinking that she should do something. The impulse was simply there. It was only when she felt her body begin to move toward him that she realized what she was doing.
Thankfully, she stopped herself before she’d taken that first step. Squashing whatever concern she might have had, she told him sternly, “Come on. Unless you want me to leave you here.”
He followed, not having a choice in the matter. He kept his gaze cast on the ground though. An indication of submission would have been nice. This wasn’t one however; it was just easier for him to see where he was going. And when he got into her car, it was clear that he didn’t feel beholden to her at all. As he buckled his seatbelt, he asked, “So… what’s the case?”
Her jaw clenched in irritation. Turning the ignition, she told him emotionlessly, “There’s no case.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re here. You’re still pissed, so -”
“Can you blame me?” she snapped, backing out of the parking spot with her foot bearing down on the gas pedal harshly.
He stayed calm when he answered, “No. But you’ve left me in prison for I don’t know how many weeks, and now you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” He shrugged. “Something’s happened. And since it’s obviously not that you’ve decided that you missed me, the only logical solution would be -”
“There’s no case.”
His fingers absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which had grown longer since he’d been in jail. “Then you either really do want me and have yet to admit that fact to -”
“Don’t.” She was practically snarling at him while she pulled onto the nearest and hopefully quickest highway that would take them back to Princeton. “The charges against you are dropped because of me, and instead of being grateful, you think you have the right to talk to me like that?”
He looked out the window. At first she thought he felt guilty. But the truth was revealed quickly, because he told her, “Watch your speed. There’s a cop car sitting in the -”
“Then stop making me want to drive over a cliff.”
His way of doing that, it seemed, was shutting up altogether. In a perfect world, he would have apologized… although in such a place, this would have never happened. But she was willing to accept an absence of antagonism as the I’m sorry he couldn’t say.
She took advantage of the silence, or at least she wanted to. She’d gone over this moment in her head many times, what she would say, how she would say it. Over the last month, there had been a lot she wanted to tell him… yell at him. But now, when it was time to actually let him know how the rest of his life would go, she was unsure where to start.
The need to get this right made her shy to open her mouth. She would only have one opportunity to make House’s situation absolutely clear to him, and she didn’t want to screw it up, because his presence unsettled her. Yet she knew that the longer she stayed silent, the more she would question herself, drive herself nuts considering and reconsidering what she wanted to say. So she decided to risk saying the wrong thing by forcing herself to speak up now instead; it was easier that way.
“The board felt that your insanity would taint the hospital’s reputation, and -”
“So they made you -”
“No. And don’t interrupt me again.”
“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Continue.”
He was snide - even now, after all she’d done for him. Perhaps that was a way of ignoring the debt he was in. She didn’t know. Regardless she wanted to pull over on the side of the road and leave him where he was. He deserved as much.
But knowing that she had a lot to say, she ignored his response and kept going. “I agreed to drop the charges against you. You should know that they didn’t force me to protect you. They don’t care what I do with you as long as it doesn’t scare donors off. In fact, they wanted me to fire your ass.”
“Then do it already,” he challenged. “I don’t need the speech. Just fire me.”
“That’s my point: I’m not firing you.” She had to keep her attention on the road, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his eyes widen in shock. She saw the way he nervously fidgeted in his seat. “I thought about it,” she admitted. “But I know what you would want: anything to avoid facing what you did. Of course, you understand that no one will ever hire you again, but part of you would be relieved that you didn’t have to face me every day. So I decided that there wasn’t a chance in Hell of that happening. You’re not getting what you want.”
He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “If that’s true, what’s to stop me from quitting?”
“You won’t quit,” she said knowingly. “That would indicate you felt bad about what you did, that you knew you were guilty. You can’t even thank me for dropping the charges against you. You’re not going anywhere.”
He didn’t confirm or deny. He just asked, “So I just go back to work? Like nothing happened? That’s it?”
“You’re not that dumb. You know that’s not it.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Nothing I say is a request. If you don’t do what you’re told, if you break a single rule I have, you can spend the rest of your life bagging groceries for all I care,” she warned. “So I would pay close attention.”
When she was sure that she had his focus, she started to go down the list she’d created the night before. Every rule calculated to make his life just a little more miserable, to take away a privilege he’d once had, it had taken planning. But she knew it would be worth it in the end.
“For starters, you show up to work on time. Not when you feel like it, not when you plan on leaving an hour early. You come on time. If you’re more than five minutes late, you’re fired. You’ll do ten hours of work in the clinic per week. That’s not negotiable. If you don’t show up, you’re -”
“Fired. Right.” He didn’t seem surprised or even that upset by those changes. But then, they weren’t that hard for him to follow. She fought the urge to smile, knowing how that would change.
“In your absence, I appointed Chase the new head of diagnostics. That won’t change.” House turned his head to look at her in surprise. He hadn’t anticipated that. “You’ll share the title for the time being until one of you makes a mistake. You’ll share the team and cases. Any tests you want to do must be approved by him.”
“You realize he’ll just do whatever I say, right?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging, changing lanes. “It’s an extra step for you, which I know you don’t like. Speaking of, there will be times, of course, where you need my approval for tests or treatments. You will not come to be directly,” she ordered. “Ever.”
That confused him. “I don’t understand. What do you -”
“If you need my approval, you send someone else. I don’t want to talk to you.”
He shook his head once. “That’s stupid. What if whoever it is I send - Taub - doesn’t agree with me or they don’t understand what -”
“Convince them,” Cuddy said simply. “But don’t come to me personally.”
“Or what? You gonna fire me for trying to do my job? For being professional?”
“No.” She grimaced. “I’ll just refuse your request. Your patient will die.”
“I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t do -”
“Try me,” she said in all seriousness. “Given what you’ve done, I don’t think it’s asking too much that you allow me to pretend that you don’t exist. I’m giving you your job. I gave you your freedom. The least you could do is never speak to me again after today. If you can’t do that and your patients die, that’s your fault - for not honoring my wishes.”
House fell silent once more. She wasn’t sure if she should take that as agreement or if he was shocked by how determined she was to never forgive him. She didn’t care.
“I have boxes of paperwork from before your arrest that need to be taken care of. Before you treat any patients personally, it’ll be your job to complete that paperwork. And you’ll be expected to maintain your billings afterwards. You’ll have time for that too,” she explained, moving onto the next rule. “No more toys, instruments, or television in your office. Any item not directly related to work will be confiscated and not returned. No prostitutes, no porn. Your computer will be updated to prevent you from looking at any site that’s not directly related to work.”
He bristled. “What if -”
“No more free floating prescriptions of Vicodin,” Cuddy said, ignoring his protest that surely would have amounted to an absurd possibility that would never actually happen. “Anything in your office was already confiscated. This afternoon, someone will be by your apartment to take whatever you have at home.”
House reached into the plastic bag he had. Pills suddenly in hand, he popped one quickly. “You didn’t see that.”
“I don’t care that you still do it. But you’ll be given a reasonable dose. One prescription a month. You can go outside the hospital if you want more and risk being arrested. I would be cautious though; you’ll be taking random but regular drug tests from now on.”
“So you don’t want to talk to me,” House said slowly. “But you want to make sure I don’t overdose. That’s interesting.”
She waved off his point with a hand. “Vicodin’s something you like, so I’m limiting what you can have. It’s that simple.”
“Some would say it’s proof that you care.” He stared at her as though trying to see whether he could draw the Cuddy that loved him from within her. That person was dead though, and there was nothing House could do to bring her back to life.
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“And I don’t have to convince you. A few more things,” she said, glossing over House’s accusations. “No driving to work for six months.”
He scoffed. “Why?”
“I told the police I thought you were suffering from side effects of Compound CS-804. You had cramping, and that’s why you drove your car through my home.”
She could tell he was impressed. “Thank you” was still impossible for him to say, but he seemed to find no flaw in her method of freeing him. If anything he clearly liked the reasoning.
Suddenly, softly he asked, “Why can’t we act like that’s what happened? I’m… I know I was wrong. I could have… killed you. But I didn’t want to hurt you. That wasn’t - it was a mistake,” he said with conviction. The power in his voice quickly gave way to a plea. “I’m sorry. I really am, Cuddy. Can’t we just treat this like it was an accident and -”
“It wasn’t an accident,” she interrupted loudly. As traffic slowed to a stop, she reminded him, “You weren’t injured. No matter how angry or hurt,” she said mockingly. “You were, you could have driven away. If you cared about me at all, you would have. So no, I’m not going to pretend, for your benefit, that -”
“Then why does it matter if I drive? Unless you actually do suspect that -”
“Hardly. But I don’t think the police really bought my theory, and if I’m telling people that you couldn’t control your muscles at the time of the crash, then your behavior needs to reflect that possibility. No driving.”
“That doesn’t make sense. If you’re afraid someone will realize that you lied to the police, then shouldn’t your behavior -”
“If my theory were correct, you would still be the idiot who stole an experimental drug and used it. I’m pretty sure I’d still be angry.”
He couldn’t fight the logic in that. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t.
“So don’t drive,” she repeated. “And since I’ve already had to save your ass from the police more than once, get to know your wife. I won’t spare you the wrath of I.N.S. if they discover what you’re doing.”
“How do you know I don’t know her?”
“If you gave a damn about her, she wouldn’t have come looking for you when you were arrested. I know it’s not in your nature to think of other people, but if there was anything between you and her, she wouldn’t have had to ask me where you were.”
He wasn’t pleased by that development. The sour look on his face suggested he wasn’t happy about that at all. “She wasn’t supposed to bother you with -”
“We both know why you agreed to marry her, so please don’t act like you wanted to protect me from that,” she said with a sneer.
He couldn’t deny that, so he tried to offer, “I’ll divorce her if it means you’ll -”
“No, you won’t. She’s innocent in -”
“She’s defrauding the government and living off me for free while she screws her boyfriend on the side. That’s hardly innocent.”
She shook her head. “I’d like to believe that. But I keep coming back to one question: how desperate did she have to be to marry you? Well… two questions actually, because I can see what she gets out of this sham of a marriage, but I wasn’t sure what you get out of it. And then I realized exactly what you would want from her. You’re so disgusting; the answer is obvious.”
“What is it that you think I -”
“Help her get her citizenship. Stop having sex with her. Stop using her to do your laundry and cook for you. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Who said we were having sex?” Since they were sitting in backed up traffic, she could glare at him as if to say that he shouldn’t have bothered with that lie; she would never believe it. “Fine. I admit that that’s about as believable as when you say you don’t have feelings for me any -”
“I don’t.”
“But here you are, telling me who I can have sex with.”
“Because it’s not right -”
“Right?”
“You’re using her,” Cuddy told him. “I don’t want you for myself, and I didn’t have your charges dropped so you could go home and take advantage of -”
“Well now you’re just projecting,” he said casually. When she tried to explain why he was wrong, he added, “That’s exactly what this is. She comes to see you, and you two bonded over how mean I am, how cruel I was to -”
“That’s not what happened. Stop making this about my behavior and start reflecting on your own.”
His response was quick. “But I understand my behavior, and yours is so much more -”
“What is wrong with you?” she exclaimed, nearly screaming. Her hands shook on the steering wheel; her eyes cast longingly on the side of the road, as if an exit she could take would magically appear.
She thought she could handle it. She thought she could sit in a car with him and listen to him be completely unappreciative. When she’d imagined all of this, part of her had known that gratitude would be too much to expect. He couldn’t accept that the person who had saved him was the same woman he could have killed. He couldn’t reconcile that any more than she could get past the part where the man she’d loved had ruined her home. But she’d thought she could ignore him, that her hatred for him would get her through this conversation.
She was wrong.
“We are not having this conversation anymore,” she declared. “You will do everything I’ve said. Additionally, and this is my last caveat for the time being, you’ll be seeing a psychiatrist twice a week.”
Cuddy thought he would go for the sarcastic remark. But perhaps afraid that she would kill him or dump him on the side of the road, he asked, “Nolan?”
“Considering your behavior since being treated by him, I’m not sure he’s up to the task of fixing you. No, I’ve set up an appointment for you for tomorrow morning at ten with Audrey Jenkins.” He didn’t seem to recognize the name. “Her office is right next to the public library. Like I said, you’ll be seeing her twice a week. She’s agreed to keep me updated on your progress, meaning if you don’t show up, if you show up late, if you refuse to participate in therapy, if you leave because of a patient, she’ll let me know.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nothing makes a person open up faster to a shrink than knowing your boss is going to hear about it, right?”
“She won’t tell me what you say. The less I know about what goes on in your diseased mind, the happier I will be.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
“This is the way things are, House. You can either accept that, or you can leave Princeton forever and never come back. It’s your choice.”
“Are you done?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything then. Whether the decision was clear for him or not, he gave no indication. She could only assume she had his cooperation. The alternative for him was unthinkable. No matter how much he hated every requirement, it would be better than to be jobless, to never see Wilson again… or her, she supposed. She wasn’t sure House counted her as a reason to stay, not anymore.
Cuddy didn’t ask for clarification however. He was busy leaning his seat back and closing his eyes. And she thought that if he wanted to take a nap or even just pretend to take one, she was okay with that. It was better than having to listen to him talk.
She wasn’t prepared for the quiet though. Traffic was still backed up for as far as she could see. She’d decided there must have been an accident somewhere along the highway, and it must have been bad enough if she was driving under twenty miles per hour. That alone didn’t bother her much. But being stuck in a car with House, who quickly fell asleep beside her, was… disturbing.
In truth, fighting would have been easier. He would say stupid things, and she would hate him, and that was a dynamic she could handle well enough. Now that he was asleep though, she was left with… the sight of him looking so peaceful, innocent.
The thought made her feel ill, the betrayal of her own mind far worse than anything House had done. But there was no wiping away the idea completely; when she looked at him, she could see the things she had once loved in him. She remembered the nights they’d slept together, the mornings she’d woken up, curled into him, his face just as serene then as it was now. Here she was trying to snuff out any trace of a relationship between them, creating rules to keep him out of her life. The past would always exist though. He would always have that part of her, no matter how he proceeded. And she might have hated him, might have wanted him to be in jail, but there was another part that longed to reach out to him. To run a hand along the side of his face, aged with sadness, would have been so wrong.
But part of her wanted it anyway.
Hands gripping the steering wheel tightly (there would be no contact between his body and hers), she forced herself to drive on.
Continue on to the next chapter
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: NC-17
Characters: House, Cuddy, Rachel Cuddy, Wilson, Arlene, Julia, etc.
Author's Note: Since this piece is set post "Moving On," there are spoilers for that episode. Also please note that, while I plan on making this House/Cuddy, it's not going to be a quick thing. Given what House has done, it will take a while to work through all of those issues. If you're looking for an easy happy ending, this isn't the piece for you. Some chapters are split for length. These next few chapters were written for harvesttime88 for the help_lisa auction.
Warning: This fic contains sex.
Summary: After House crashes his car through Cuddy's home, both strive to rebuild their lives and deal with the consequences of their broken relationship.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part 1), Chapter 2 (Part 2), Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (Part 1), Chapter 4 (Part 2), Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 (Part 1)
Disclaimer: The show is not mine.
She dreaded this moment, had since the second he’d ruined her home. Of course, right after House had done that, she hadn’t imagined that his release would be welcomed by her, the product of her actions. But when he hadn’t killed anyone, she had known that this day would come eventually.
And here she was now - living that moment she’d never wanted to happen.
Any enjoyment she’d gotten from being asked out on a date was gone. The self-assurance she’d had that this was the right course of action disappeared. Whatever she’d told herself to get herself to this point suddenly seemed inadequate when faced with the reality of picking House up from jail.
At that moment, she berated herself for insisting on it. She could have had him released and let him figure out a way to get home on his own. That would have been easier, probably smarter as well. But she’d told Malcolm, and everyone else, that she would be picking him up. No doubt they believed she was doing this to prove that she really thought House wasn’t responsible for his actions. In truth however, she’d wanted to take the drive back to his apartment to explain in detail how his life was going to be from here on out. She wouldn’t allow him to think he’d achieved any sort of freedom when he walked out of his jail.
Being here though… it was a lot harder than she imagined it would be.
Part of her wanted to turn and run, but she knew she couldn’t. Thanks to her own behavior, she would have to come face to face with House eventually. She couldn’t avoid this meeting forever.
But when he suddenly came through a heavily locked and guarded door and into the same room that she was in, she wanted to run.
It wasn’t fear that she felt, not exactly. That would have been understandable, she thought, but she doubted he was dumb enough to do something to her in a room filled with armed policemen. It wasn’t that she was afraid of being hurt.
It was just… a deep longing to be free of him and the unbidden knowledge that she probably never would be. Because even as part of her hated him, there was another part that couldn’t help but notice how gaunt he’d become. In the last month and a half or so, he’d lost weight, muscle mass. He didn’t look as though he’d been mistreated, but he was thinner and paler. His eyes were wild with disbelief and concern, and if there were fear in the room with them now, it was his.
His things bagged in a clear plastic bag, he held them tucked under the crook of one arm. His other hand grasped his cane and shook with each tentative step towards her. When he stopped in front of her, he said nothing. He just stood there in complete bewilderment.
“Do you have everything?” she asked unkindly. He nodded his head. “Let’s go. I want to be able to go to work, and there’s traffic.”
He didn’t say anything, which made her feel even more uneasy. Being with him at all made her uncomfortable. Seeing that he had… changed (she hesitated to say that) didn’t help her feel any better. It should have. His newfound docility should have pleased her. Instead, she felt as though the rules had changed, things between them had shifted. She didn’t know what had happened to make him think this was the best way to handle her, and she didn’t care what the reason was. But the difference confused her anyway. She hoped it didn’t show.
Turning away from him, she started to walk towards the door. She assumed he would follow her, and he did, slowly. Nevertheless, that fact sent a ripple of disappointment through her. Although she knew this had to happen, it wasn’t easy to go through with it. She didn’t think it would ever be.
That became particularly apparent when they stepped outside into the bright sun. Instantly House stopped moving. He couldn’t keep walking, because he was too busy wincing in pain. When Cuddy turned around to see what the problem was, she understood automatically.
He probably hadn’t been outside since he’d been arrested, and his eyes had trouble adjusting to the sudden rush of light and the overwhelming heat of summer. He cringed, trying to shield himself from the sun instinctively. And seeing him suffering, she felt her own instincts respond. She found herself wanting to help him, feeling bad for him.
It wasn’t even a thought in her mind. There was no moment where she heard herself thinking that she should do something. The impulse was simply there. It was only when she felt her body begin to move toward him that she realized what she was doing.
Thankfully, she stopped herself before she’d taken that first step. Squashing whatever concern she might have had, she told him sternly, “Come on. Unless you want me to leave you here.”
He followed, not having a choice in the matter. He kept his gaze cast on the ground though. An indication of submission would have been nice. This wasn’t one however; it was just easier for him to see where he was going. And when he got into her car, it was clear that he didn’t feel beholden to her at all. As he buckled his seatbelt, he asked, “So… what’s the case?”
Her jaw clenched in irritation. Turning the ignition, she told him emotionlessly, “There’s no case.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re here. You’re still pissed, so -”
“Can you blame me?” she snapped, backing out of the parking spot with her foot bearing down on the gas pedal harshly.
He stayed calm when he answered, “No. But you’ve left me in prison for I don’t know how many weeks, and now you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” He shrugged. “Something’s happened. And since it’s obviously not that you’ve decided that you missed me, the only logical solution would be -”
“There’s no case.”
His fingers absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which had grown longer since he’d been in jail. “Then you either really do want me and have yet to admit that fact to -”
“Don’t.” She was practically snarling at him while she pulled onto the nearest and hopefully quickest highway that would take them back to Princeton. “The charges against you are dropped because of me, and instead of being grateful, you think you have the right to talk to me like that?”
He looked out the window. At first she thought he felt guilty. But the truth was revealed quickly, because he told her, “Watch your speed. There’s a cop car sitting in the -”
“Then stop making me want to drive over a cliff.”
His way of doing that, it seemed, was shutting up altogether. In a perfect world, he would have apologized… although in such a place, this would have never happened. But she was willing to accept an absence of antagonism as the I’m sorry he couldn’t say.
She took advantage of the silence, or at least she wanted to. She’d gone over this moment in her head many times, what she would say, how she would say it. Over the last month, there had been a lot she wanted to tell him… yell at him. But now, when it was time to actually let him know how the rest of his life would go, she was unsure where to start.
The need to get this right made her shy to open her mouth. She would only have one opportunity to make House’s situation absolutely clear to him, and she didn’t want to screw it up, because his presence unsettled her. Yet she knew that the longer she stayed silent, the more she would question herself, drive herself nuts considering and reconsidering what she wanted to say. So she decided to risk saying the wrong thing by forcing herself to speak up now instead; it was easier that way.
“The board felt that your insanity would taint the hospital’s reputation, and -”
“So they made you -”
“No. And don’t interrupt me again.”
“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Continue.”
He was snide - even now, after all she’d done for him. Perhaps that was a way of ignoring the debt he was in. She didn’t know. Regardless she wanted to pull over on the side of the road and leave him where he was. He deserved as much.
But knowing that she had a lot to say, she ignored his response and kept going. “I agreed to drop the charges against you. You should know that they didn’t force me to protect you. They don’t care what I do with you as long as it doesn’t scare donors off. In fact, they wanted me to fire your ass.”
“Then do it already,” he challenged. “I don’t need the speech. Just fire me.”
“That’s my point: I’m not firing you.” She had to keep her attention on the road, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his eyes widen in shock. She saw the way he nervously fidgeted in his seat. “I thought about it,” she admitted. “But I know what you would want: anything to avoid facing what you did. Of course, you understand that no one will ever hire you again, but part of you would be relieved that you didn’t have to face me every day. So I decided that there wasn’t a chance in Hell of that happening. You’re not getting what you want.”
He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “If that’s true, what’s to stop me from quitting?”
“You won’t quit,” she said knowingly. “That would indicate you felt bad about what you did, that you knew you were guilty. You can’t even thank me for dropping the charges against you. You’re not going anywhere.”
He didn’t confirm or deny. He just asked, “So I just go back to work? Like nothing happened? That’s it?”
“You’re not that dumb. You know that’s not it.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Nothing I say is a request. If you don’t do what you’re told, if you break a single rule I have, you can spend the rest of your life bagging groceries for all I care,” she warned. “So I would pay close attention.”
When she was sure that she had his focus, she started to go down the list she’d created the night before. Every rule calculated to make his life just a little more miserable, to take away a privilege he’d once had, it had taken planning. But she knew it would be worth it in the end.
“For starters, you show up to work on time. Not when you feel like it, not when you plan on leaving an hour early. You come on time. If you’re more than five minutes late, you’re fired. You’ll do ten hours of work in the clinic per week. That’s not negotiable. If you don’t show up, you’re -”
“Fired. Right.” He didn’t seem surprised or even that upset by those changes. But then, they weren’t that hard for him to follow. She fought the urge to smile, knowing how that would change.
“In your absence, I appointed Chase the new head of diagnostics. That won’t change.” House turned his head to look at her in surprise. He hadn’t anticipated that. “You’ll share the title for the time being until one of you makes a mistake. You’ll share the team and cases. Any tests you want to do must be approved by him.”
“You realize he’ll just do whatever I say, right?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging, changing lanes. “It’s an extra step for you, which I know you don’t like. Speaking of, there will be times, of course, where you need my approval for tests or treatments. You will not come to be directly,” she ordered. “Ever.”
That confused him. “I don’t understand. What do you -”
“If you need my approval, you send someone else. I don’t want to talk to you.”
He shook his head once. “That’s stupid. What if whoever it is I send - Taub - doesn’t agree with me or they don’t understand what -”
“Convince them,” Cuddy said simply. “But don’t come to me personally.”
“Or what? You gonna fire me for trying to do my job? For being professional?”
“No.” She grimaced. “I’ll just refuse your request. Your patient will die.”
“I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t do -”
“Try me,” she said in all seriousness. “Given what you’ve done, I don’t think it’s asking too much that you allow me to pretend that you don’t exist. I’m giving you your job. I gave you your freedom. The least you could do is never speak to me again after today. If you can’t do that and your patients die, that’s your fault - for not honoring my wishes.”
House fell silent once more. She wasn’t sure if she should take that as agreement or if he was shocked by how determined she was to never forgive him. She didn’t care.
“I have boxes of paperwork from before your arrest that need to be taken care of. Before you treat any patients personally, it’ll be your job to complete that paperwork. And you’ll be expected to maintain your billings afterwards. You’ll have time for that too,” she explained, moving onto the next rule. “No more toys, instruments, or television in your office. Any item not directly related to work will be confiscated and not returned. No prostitutes, no porn. Your computer will be updated to prevent you from looking at any site that’s not directly related to work.”
He bristled. “What if -”
“No more free floating prescriptions of Vicodin,” Cuddy said, ignoring his protest that surely would have amounted to an absurd possibility that would never actually happen. “Anything in your office was already confiscated. This afternoon, someone will be by your apartment to take whatever you have at home.”
House reached into the plastic bag he had. Pills suddenly in hand, he popped one quickly. “You didn’t see that.”
“I don’t care that you still do it. But you’ll be given a reasonable dose. One prescription a month. You can go outside the hospital if you want more and risk being arrested. I would be cautious though; you’ll be taking random but regular drug tests from now on.”
“So you don’t want to talk to me,” House said slowly. “But you want to make sure I don’t overdose. That’s interesting.”
She waved off his point with a hand. “Vicodin’s something you like, so I’m limiting what you can have. It’s that simple.”
“Some would say it’s proof that you care.” He stared at her as though trying to see whether he could draw the Cuddy that loved him from within her. That person was dead though, and there was nothing House could do to bring her back to life.
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“And I don’t have to convince you. A few more things,” she said, glossing over House’s accusations. “No driving to work for six months.”
He scoffed. “Why?”
“I told the police I thought you were suffering from side effects of Compound CS-804. You had cramping, and that’s why you drove your car through my home.”
She could tell he was impressed. “Thank you” was still impossible for him to say, but he seemed to find no flaw in her method of freeing him. If anything he clearly liked the reasoning.
Suddenly, softly he asked, “Why can’t we act like that’s what happened? I’m… I know I was wrong. I could have… killed you. But I didn’t want to hurt you. That wasn’t - it was a mistake,” he said with conviction. The power in his voice quickly gave way to a plea. “I’m sorry. I really am, Cuddy. Can’t we just treat this like it was an accident and -”
“It wasn’t an accident,” she interrupted loudly. As traffic slowed to a stop, she reminded him, “You weren’t injured. No matter how angry or hurt,” she said mockingly. “You were, you could have driven away. If you cared about me at all, you would have. So no, I’m not going to pretend, for your benefit, that -”
“Then why does it matter if I drive? Unless you actually do suspect that -”
“Hardly. But I don’t think the police really bought my theory, and if I’m telling people that you couldn’t control your muscles at the time of the crash, then your behavior needs to reflect that possibility. No driving.”
“That doesn’t make sense. If you’re afraid someone will realize that you lied to the police, then shouldn’t your behavior -”
“If my theory were correct, you would still be the idiot who stole an experimental drug and used it. I’m pretty sure I’d still be angry.”
He couldn’t fight the logic in that. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t.
“So don’t drive,” she repeated. “And since I’ve already had to save your ass from the police more than once, get to know your wife. I won’t spare you the wrath of I.N.S. if they discover what you’re doing.”
“How do you know I don’t know her?”
“If you gave a damn about her, she wouldn’t have come looking for you when you were arrested. I know it’s not in your nature to think of other people, but if there was anything between you and her, she wouldn’t have had to ask me where you were.”
He wasn’t pleased by that development. The sour look on his face suggested he wasn’t happy about that at all. “She wasn’t supposed to bother you with -”
“We both know why you agreed to marry her, so please don’t act like you wanted to protect me from that,” she said with a sneer.
He couldn’t deny that, so he tried to offer, “I’ll divorce her if it means you’ll -”
“No, you won’t. She’s innocent in -”
“She’s defrauding the government and living off me for free while she screws her boyfriend on the side. That’s hardly innocent.”
She shook her head. “I’d like to believe that. But I keep coming back to one question: how desperate did she have to be to marry you? Well… two questions actually, because I can see what she gets out of this sham of a marriage, but I wasn’t sure what you get out of it. And then I realized exactly what you would want from her. You’re so disgusting; the answer is obvious.”
“What is it that you think I -”
“Help her get her citizenship. Stop having sex with her. Stop using her to do your laundry and cook for you. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Who said we were having sex?” Since they were sitting in backed up traffic, she could glare at him as if to say that he shouldn’t have bothered with that lie; she would never believe it. “Fine. I admit that that’s about as believable as when you say you don’t have feelings for me any -”
“I don’t.”
“But here you are, telling me who I can have sex with.”
“Because it’s not right -”
“Right?”
“You’re using her,” Cuddy told him. “I don’t want you for myself, and I didn’t have your charges dropped so you could go home and take advantage of -”
“Well now you’re just projecting,” he said casually. When she tried to explain why he was wrong, he added, “That’s exactly what this is. She comes to see you, and you two bonded over how mean I am, how cruel I was to -”
“That’s not what happened. Stop making this about my behavior and start reflecting on your own.”
His response was quick. “But I understand my behavior, and yours is so much more -”
“What is wrong with you?” she exclaimed, nearly screaming. Her hands shook on the steering wheel; her eyes cast longingly on the side of the road, as if an exit she could take would magically appear.
She thought she could handle it. She thought she could sit in a car with him and listen to him be completely unappreciative. When she’d imagined all of this, part of her had known that gratitude would be too much to expect. He couldn’t accept that the person who had saved him was the same woman he could have killed. He couldn’t reconcile that any more than she could get past the part where the man she’d loved had ruined her home. But she’d thought she could ignore him, that her hatred for him would get her through this conversation.
She was wrong.
“We are not having this conversation anymore,” she declared. “You will do everything I’ve said. Additionally, and this is my last caveat for the time being, you’ll be seeing a psychiatrist twice a week.”
Cuddy thought he would go for the sarcastic remark. But perhaps afraid that she would kill him or dump him on the side of the road, he asked, “Nolan?”
“Considering your behavior since being treated by him, I’m not sure he’s up to the task of fixing you. No, I’ve set up an appointment for you for tomorrow morning at ten with Audrey Jenkins.” He didn’t seem to recognize the name. “Her office is right next to the public library. Like I said, you’ll be seeing her twice a week. She’s agreed to keep me updated on your progress, meaning if you don’t show up, if you show up late, if you refuse to participate in therapy, if you leave because of a patient, she’ll let me know.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nothing makes a person open up faster to a shrink than knowing your boss is going to hear about it, right?”
“She won’t tell me what you say. The less I know about what goes on in your diseased mind, the happier I will be.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
“This is the way things are, House. You can either accept that, or you can leave Princeton forever and never come back. It’s your choice.”
“Are you done?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything then. Whether the decision was clear for him or not, he gave no indication. She could only assume she had his cooperation. The alternative for him was unthinkable. No matter how much he hated every requirement, it would be better than to be jobless, to never see Wilson again… or her, she supposed. She wasn’t sure House counted her as a reason to stay, not anymore.
Cuddy didn’t ask for clarification however. He was busy leaning his seat back and closing his eyes. And she thought that if he wanted to take a nap or even just pretend to take one, she was okay with that. It was better than having to listen to him talk.
She wasn’t prepared for the quiet though. Traffic was still backed up for as far as she could see. She’d decided there must have been an accident somewhere along the highway, and it must have been bad enough if she was driving under twenty miles per hour. That alone didn’t bother her much. But being stuck in a car with House, who quickly fell asleep beside her, was… disturbing.
In truth, fighting would have been easier. He would say stupid things, and she would hate him, and that was a dynamic she could handle well enough. Now that he was asleep though, she was left with… the sight of him looking so peaceful, innocent.
The thought made her feel ill, the betrayal of her own mind far worse than anything House had done. But there was no wiping away the idea completely; when she looked at him, she could see the things she had once loved in him. She remembered the nights they’d slept together, the mornings she’d woken up, curled into him, his face just as serene then as it was now. Here she was trying to snuff out any trace of a relationship between them, creating rules to keep him out of her life. The past would always exist though. He would always have that part of her, no matter how he proceeded. And she might have hated him, might have wanted him to be in jail, but there was another part that longed to reach out to him. To run a hand along the side of his face, aged with sadness, would have been so wrong.
But part of her wanted it anyway.
Hands gripping the steering wheel tightly (there would be no contact between his body and hers), she forced herself to drive on.
Continue on to the next chapter